


Pretty

by hawksonfire



Series: Star Spangled Bingo 2019 [6]
Category: Marvel
Genre: Amnesia Steve, Angst and Feels, Awesome Clint Barton, Clint Barton & Natasha Romanov Friendship, Clint Barton Feels, Clint Barton Needs a Hug, Doombots, M/M, Memory Loss, Natasha Romanov Is a Good Bro, POV Clint Barton, POV Steve Rogers, Poor Clint Barton, Snarky Clint Barton, Snarky Tony Stark, Steve Needs a Hug, Steve Rogers Feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-07
Updated: 2019-05-07
Packaged: 2020-02-27 20:45:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18746779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hawksonfire/pseuds/hawksonfire
Summary: Memory is an iffy thing. Clint can remember his fifth birthday like it was yesterday, but he has no idea what happened for pretty much his entire eighth year of life. One thing Clint knows he would never forget, though, is Steve. They promised that they would never forget each other, and Clint intends to keep that promise.It appears that the DoomBots disagree with their promise.





	Pretty

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Star Spangled Bingo Square G2 - Memory Loss.

**Clint**

The day started off great. Clint woke up being spooned by his super-soldier boyfriend. Said boyfriend then got him coffee (made perfectly) and proceeded to not say a word to him until he was three mugs deep. “Morning, pretty,” Steve says, smiling softly at him.

Clint can feel his cheeks turning pink. “You know I hate that,” he grumbles. He doesn’t hate it, not really, it just bugs him that Steve is so easily able to make him blush.

“Yeah, yeah,” Steve pulls him into a hug. Clint practically melts into his chest - look, Steve is a big dude, alright? Clint may be taller, but Steve is broader. And his chest is drool-worthy (both for his muscles and its pillow-like qualities. “What’s on the docket for today?”

“Oh, I have very important plans,” Clint says seriously, “I plan to get dicked by my hunky boyfriend until I can barely remember my own name, and then I’m going to cuddle the shit out of him until it’s time for bed.”

Steve snorts. “Did you plan any eating into that jam-packed schedule?”

“Nope, that’s what the hunky boyfriend is for.” Clint grins up at Steve, planting a kiss right on his beautiful mouth. “Now, c’mon, we’re already behind schedule!” Steve hoists Clint over his shoulder, being careful not to spill his coffee, and they’re walking towards their bedroom when the Assemble alarm goes off. “Aw, supervillains, no,” Clint whines.

Steve puts him down. “Raincheck on the dicking, yeah?”

Clint pouts but waves his agreement, chugging the rest of his coffee and following Steve down to the hangar. “What’s the sitch, bitch?” Clint shouts, walking into the hangar and grabbing his gear.

“I resent that!” Tony yells back, hidden behind the jet.

“I resent you!” Clint pulls on his uniform and grabs his quiver, double-checking the amount and type of arrows inside. “Where’d you put my splodie-arrows, Tony?”

“7F!”

Clint rolls his eyes. “They go in 4D, you dumbass!” He grabs four splodie-arrows, sticks them into his quiver and pulls the quiver onto his back. He and Tony snark at each other throughout the mission briefing - pretty much all the way to the actual problem. It’s nothing major, just a couple DoomBots that the local NYPD can’t handle.

“Bogey on your nine, Cap,” Clint says, already firing an arrow. Steve whirls around and slams his shield into the bot’s neck, severing its head a split second before Clint’s EMP arrow lands, frying the core.

“Thanks, babe,” Steve says - even from here, Clint can see him grinning.

“Hey! Killer robots attacking?” Tony yells as he flies by, “Save the flirting til we’re clear!”

Clint rolls his eyes and keeps firing arrows, keeping one eye on Steve. That one eye is the reason he’s able to see that Steve is heading towards an alley where they’ll be able to box him in. “That’s a dead end, Cap,” Clint warns, already moving closer. “Make a left, I’ve got your back.”

“I got this, Hawkeye, don’t worry about me!” Steve huffs - and then he turns right. Straight down the dead-end. 

“What was that?” Clint says, amused.

“Yeah, alright, I could use some backup.”

“On my way.” Clint fires his grappling hook arrow and zips across the gap between buildings, tucking and rolling as he hits the ground. “Almost there, Cap, you still good?”

“Take your time, Clint, not going any -” He gets cut off and Clint opens his mouth to ask something - and then Steve screams. Clint’s heart drops out his ass and he sprints across the roof, dropping into the alley he last saw Steve in.

“What the hell was that?”

“Anyone got eyes on Steve?”

Clint searches the alley, coming up empty - wait. Something flashes at him from beside the dumpster and he races over, skidding to a stop. He drops to his knees beside Steve’s body and frantically searches for a pulse. “I’ve got him!” Clint sags in relief as his fingers find a weak pulse. “Alive, looks unharmed, but he’s got a pretty thready pulse. He needs medical.”

“On my way,” says Tony, and seconds later he lands in the alley with a whoosh. “J, scan him.”

“There is a small contusion on the right side of his head, but that is the only injury my scans can detect.”

Clint sighs in relief. “Take him out of here, Tony, we got this.” Clint presses a kiss to Steve’s forehead and lets Tony pick him up and fly him away. “Let’s get this shit done, guys, I’ve got somewhere I need to be,” Clint snarls, white-hot fury sharpening his - well, everything. Nobody hurts Steve and lives to tell about it, not while Clint’s around.

They demolish the remaining DoomBots quickly and head back to the Tower, Clint’s leg bouncing up and down rapidly the whole way. “He will be fine,” Nat says.

“He better be.” They arrive at the Tower and Clint is the first one out of the jet. He heads up to the medical suite immediately, chewing on his lip nervously. “Where is he?” He asks the nurse waiting for him.

“This way,” she says, leading him towards Steve’s room. “The doctor wants to talk to you once you see him.”

“Fine, whatever.” They come to a stop in front of Steve’s room and Clint slumps against the doorframe, eyes glued to Steve’s unmoving form. He walks over hesitantly and collapses into the bedside chair, grabbing onto Steve’s hand like it’s a lifeline. “You scared me, babe,” he says, chuckling weakly, “Don’t do stuff like that.”

“Hawkeye, the doctor -”

“Can come in here,” Clint says, “I’m not leaving his side.” The nurse nods and leaves, and a few minutes later the doctor shows up.

“Mr. Barton. Captain Rogers is stable, and we can find nothing wrong with him except for the small bump on his head. So physically, he will be fine.” The doctor hesitates.

“Spit it out, doc,” Clint says quietly, because he hates waiting for bad news.

“It’s the location of the bump that has us worried. It’s right over the part of the brain that processes memory, both long-term and short-term. We can’t tell for sure, but there is a possibility that Captain Rogers may experience some memory problems upon his awakening.”

Clint blinks. “What kind of memory problems?”

“Honestly? We don’t know.” The doctor shrugs. “It could be something as simple as forgetting how to make eggs the way he likes them. But...”

“But what? I said spit it out, doc.”

“He could have no memory of the last few years. As I said, we just won’t know until he wakes up."

“And that will be when,” Clint growls, fed up.

“We don’t know that either. We’ll monitor his vitals until he does wake up, and then depending on the test results he can make an informed decision.” The doctor leaves the room and Clint sighs.

“Please wake up soon, Steve,” he says brokenly, “Don’t leave me here alone.”

~~~~~~

It takes three days for Steve to wake up. Clint barely leaves his side, holding his hand the whole time. He’s leaning his forehead against their combined hands when Steve’s hand tightens a fraction on Clint’s. He looks up immediately and is met by Steve’s blue eyes.

“Oh thank God,” Clint sighs, rubbing his eyes. He looks at Steve, smiling, and Steve hesitantly smiles back. “Do you know where you are?” Clint asks warily. He releases Steve’s hand and immediately, Steve pulls it back to his chest. He shakes his head silently. “Do you know who I am?” Another shake of the head. Clint shoves down the heartbreak he’s feeling and keeps asking questions. “Do you know who you are?”

“Steve Rogers,” Steve says, furrowing his eyebrows.

Clint nods. “Good. What else do you know?”

Steve is quiet for a while, screwing up his nose in concentration. “I’m in the future,” he says slowly, “In New York.”

Clint nods. “Correct. Is it okay if I call the doctors? They’ll be able to answer your questions better.” Steve nods hesitantly and Clint pushes the call button. They sit in silence until the doctor comes in.

As soon as he notices Steve’s awake, he immediately calls several more nurses in and they start to ask questions and run tests. Clint backs out of the room slowly, and as soon as he’s sure Steve can no longer see him, he runs down the hall and up the stairs, bursting out onto the roof a minute later.

He stares out across the city, unseeing. Steve doesn’t know who he is. How is he supposed to deal with that? He doesn’t realize he’s fallen to his knees until a spike of pain grabs his attention. He looks down to see a piece of gravel sticking out of his leg. Clint stares at the blood beading around the rock until someone tilts his chin up.

Natasha. Of course. She found him, she always finds him. “Oh, Ястребка,” she murmurs, “I’m sorry.”

Clint collapses into her lap and lets himself break apart. He sobs loudly, tears streaming down his face and probably leaving a wet patch on her pants, but he can’t bring himself to care. Eventually, he cries himself dry and he sniffles wetly. “He doesn’t know me, Nat.”

“He will,” she says, running her hand through his hair, “This is just temporary. You guys will be back to your sickeningly sweet selves in no time.”

“You think so?”

“I know so,” she says firmly. Clint takes a deep breath and pushes himself up, scrubbing at his face.

“Presentable?” He asks, spreading his arms.

“Never,” she says dryly, “But you’ll do.”

“Rude,” Clint huffs. He follows her back inside and they make their way down to the kitchen. As they get closer, Clint can hear Tony’s voice talking about the battle they just fought.

“DoomBots - nothing unusual, really, they’re sort of a weekly thing around here - were occupying this block here, and we got called in to stop them.”

“So that’s me?” That’s Steve’s voice. Clint stops dead and Natasha rolls her eyes, grabbing his wrist and yanking him into the kitchen behind her.

“That’s you,” she says, making Steve jump. “Do you remember being Captain America?”

He nods. “Not here - in the future, I mean. Before, in the USO.” He catches sight of Clint and waves, and Clint offers a weak grin in return. “I kept doing that?”

“Yeah, you’re the leader of our fine team. We’re called the Avengers, sort of a big deal.” Tony says, grinning. “You lead us into battle, tell us what to do, and then get mad when we only listen sixty percent of the time.”

Natasha scoffs and hops up onto the counter beside Tony. “It’s more like we only listen half the time, and the other half our plan goes to shit within moments of touchdown.”

“So, you’re Iron Man, aka Tony Stark,” Steve points at Tony.

Tony nods, doing jazz hands. “That’s me!”

“You’re the Black Widow, aka Natasha Romanoff,” he points to Natasha next. She smiles coyly at him.

“And you’re Hawkeye,” he says, (finally) looking at Clint. “Also known as Clint Barton.”

“Yep,” Clint says, raising his mug. “Only unenhanced person on the team, but I do alright.” Steve studies him - and having those eyes look at him with no emotion in them when they were just looking at him four days ago full of love... Well, it gives Clint the feeling that someone just stuck a knife into his stomach and twisted. And he knows what that _actually_ feels like.

Steve turns back to Natasha. “Were we sleeping together?”

Tony chokes on his coffee and Clint has to lock his knees to stay standing. Natasha raises an eyebrow, smirking. “No, not us.” Clint manages to slap a hand over Tony’s mouth just before he says something crass, and he taps out [UNKNOWN BEFORE ME] on Natasha’s back in Morse code.

“Was there anyone in my life like... that?” Steve asks, and he looks so sad. Clint’s heart aches for him. This is the second time he’s woken up in a new time, with people telling him who he is and how they know him. Steve - Clint’s Steve - told him how it made him feel when he woke up the first time, and everyone seemed to know who he was better than he did.

“Why don’t we go test your reflexes, and if you can beat me I’ll tell you?” Natasha says, sliding off the counter and winking at Steve. The challenge lights a fire in Steve’s eyes and he stands, a faint smile on his lips.

“Sounds like fun,” he says, and they walk out of the kitchen in comfortable silence.

“What the fuck was that, Legolas?” Tony says, shoving Clint away from him.

“Steve didn’t know he liked men before he met me, Tony,” Clint says, holding onto the counter like his life depends on it.

“That’s -” Tony swallows whatever he was going to say at Clint’s glare.

“Don’t you think he deserves to discover that on his own, and not have yet _another_ thing taken away from him?”

Tony blinks. “What if he discovers it with someone else, and never gets his memory back?”

Clint sucks in a breath slowly. “Then I wish him all the happiness in the world.”

“That’s a helluva thing to do for him, Clint,” Tony says softly.

“He deserves to be happy, Tones,” Clint says wearily, heading back to his room. “Even if it’s not with me.”

~~~~~~

Steve doesn’t know what to think. He knows these people should be familiar to him, and they clearly know him - or at least how he fights - but he’s tried and tried and tried to remember them. It doesn’t work. The doctors say that the memories should come back in time, but Steve’s not so sure they will. It’s been a month since he woke up in that hospital room, and he hasn't remembered anything. Not a single thing.

He knows they’re keeping something from him, and he’s pretty sure that it has something to do with Barton. The man can barely stand to be in the same room as him, and whenever he _is_ , Steve catches him staring sadly, like Steve is dead and not just an amnesiac.

The computer in the Tower is really helpful - Steve spent six hours asking it every question he could think of, plus more, and it answered all of them. Maybe it can help him figure out why Barton is avoiding him. “Uh, JARVIS?”

“Yes, Captain Rogers,” the voice says. It still sort of gives Steve the willies that he can’t tell where it’s coming from.

“Do you know why Hawkeye - er, Clint, that is - is avoiding me?”

“I do know, but I have been instructed not to tell you.”

“By who?” Steve knew they were keeping things from him, but he figured it was just them trying to let his supposed memories come back on their own.

“By Mr. Stark.”

“Well, is there any way to override that?” Silence. “JARVIS? Are you still there?”

“Yes, Captain Rogers. I apologize for the delay. The only way to override a direct order for Sir would be to use your override codes - that is, the codes you created before you lost your memory."

Steve blinks. “Can you tell me what those are?”

“I’m afraid not, Captain. I am unable to speak the override codes myself for this Tower’s protection.”

“Right, in case we get attacked or something, so you can’t just tell the hostiles the codes if they gain control.” Steve scrubs a hand over his face and flops back onto his bed, staring at the ceiling. “Can you give me any hints?”

“I’m afraid not.”

Steve sighs. “Does anyone else know my override codes?”

“Agent Barton knows them,” JARVIS says.

Steve sits up in surprise. “Well, how come he knows them?”

“Again, you would have to use your override codes to access that information.”

“What could be so important that I have to use specialized codes to gain access to it?” Steve groans. “It’s not like I have a secret lover that I forgot about or something, right, JARVIS?” JARVIS is noticeably silent. Steve narrows his eyes. “JARVIS. Is that the information I asked about?”

JARVIS stays silent, but a screen pops up in front of Steve. It looks like security camera footage of the common room that Tony showed him earlier on the tour. Steve pokes at it and it plays.

 _“C’mon Steve, we’re going to be late!”_ An on-screen Barton comes into view, dressed to the nines but struggling with his bowtie.

“ _We were going to be late twenty minutes ago when you pulled me into a closet to neck,”_ An on-screen Steve scoffs. He walks up to Barton and bats his hands away, fixing his bowtie for him. _“There. Pretty as ever.”_

On-screen Barton blushes and grumbles, “ _You know I hate it when you call me that.”_ On-screen Steve just grins at him and leans in to kiss him, pressing their lips together with no hesitation at all. They’ve clearly been together for a while.

 _“No, I know you hate it when I call you that in front of other people,”_ on-screen Steve corrects. He loops an arm around on-screen Barton’s waist and they walk out of view of the camera.

The screen vanishes and Steve is left staring at nothing, mouth wide open and mind racing. “I’m - that -” Steve doesn’t know what to say. He’s not queer. Right? He was in love with Peggy during the war, wasn’t he?

“Captain Rogers, are you alright?” Steve barely hears JARVIS’ question over the roaring in his ears. He sits there, frozen, until someone kneels in front of him and pulls his head into their chest.

“It’s alright, Steve, you’re safe,” the person murmurs softly, petting Steve’s hair. “You’re safe, I’m here for you, just breathe for me, okay? Can you do that? Inhale for me, Steve, come on, you can do it.” The voice soothes Steve’s nerves and he eventually becomes aware enough to realize that he’s laying in Clint’s lap, crying into his shirt. He goes to pull away but Clint’s grip tightens. “Hey, none of that now. What just happened is nothing to be ashamed of, you hear me? It’s called a panic attack. I get them, Tony gets them - hell, everyone in this Tower gets them.”

“But not everyone is this Tower is queer,” Steve says hoarsely. This time, when he pulls away, Clint lets him go.

“You’d be surprised,” Clint says wryly. Steve blinks in shock. “Technically, me and Natasha are the only ones who discriminate based on gender.” He clarifies when Steve raises an eyebrow. “She’s strictly into women, and I’m strictly into men. Well, one man in particular, anyway.”

“Me,” Steve says. Clint’s eyes widen a fraction and he freezes.

Then he lets out a little chuckle and smiles sheepishly. “Yeah, Steve, you.”

“Why would you keep that from me?”

“To avoid what just happened. I didn’t want you to discover something that important about yourself just because Tony couldn’t keep his mouth shut, or I couldn’t keep my feelings separate. It wasn’t fair to you -”

“What wasn’t fair to me,” Steve interrupts, “Was making the decision to not tell me that I was in a relationship with you. Didn’t you think I deserved to know?”

“Of course I did, Steve,” Clint says, “This isn’t about that. This is about the fact that you did not know you were into men before I kissed you one day and you freaked out because you liked it. You avoided me for a month until you finally worked up the courage to sit beside me at the breakfast table.” He shakes his head. “I didn’t tell you, because I wanted to give you the chance to find out on your own in a way that made sense to you. Besides, what would you have done if you woke up and there’s this strange man there, holding your hand and kissing you and calling himself your boyfriend - and you have no idea who he is.”

“It wouldn’t have been that bad,” Steve mumbles, even though he knows it would’ve been.

“Uh-huh,” Clint says dryly, seeing right through his bullshit.

“You didn’t, though,” Steve says, looking up at Clint.

“Didn’t what?”

“Kiss me. I mean, I woke up and you were holding my hand, sure, but at the time I thought maybe you were just checking my pulse or something.” Clint’s staring at him. “What?” Steve says, hunching his shoulders.

“No, it’s just - of course I didn’t kiss you, you putz. You would’ve decked me if I just kissed you out of the blue.”

“It wouldn’t be out of the blue now,” Steve says shyly. Clint freezes again. He looks at Steve. Steve looks at him. “Sorry, I thought -” Steve’s cut off when Clint lunges forward and crushes their mouths together. Steve freezes (somehow not expecting, despite the fact that he asked for it) and then starts kissing back. He falls onto his back, Clint overtop of him, and they’re still kissing.

Clint pulls back, panting, eyes wide and staring at Steve. “Well?” He asks.

Steve runs a thumb over his bottom lip. “There you are, pretty,” he says - and then he blinks.

Clint is frozen on top of him, barely even breathing. “What did you call me?” He asks, fingers clenched so tightly in Steve’s shirt that the knuckles are white.

Steve grins. “I said, there you are, pretty.” His memories slot into place like they never left, and he crushes Clint against his chest, tears slipping down his face. “I am so sorry, Clint,” he says into Clint’s hair, “I never wanted to leave you.”

Clint sobs into his shirt, shaking. “Even memoryless, you’re an asshole,” he says faintly. Steve abruptly goes boneless with relief, knowing Clint isn’t mad at him.

“Some things can’t be erased,” he murmurs, and Clint lets out a wet chuckle. He sits up and stares at Steve, running a thumb over his cheekbone. “Missed you,” Steve hums.

“You didn’t even know you had something to miss,” Clint points out.

“I knew something was missing,” Steve says, sitting up and pulling Clint closer, “I just didn’t know what it was.”

“Are you okay?” Clint asks softly, and Steve is abruptly struck by how much he loves this man.

“I love you. You know that, right?” Clint pulls back and stares at him.

“Of course I know that you moron,” Clint says, exasperated, “A little thing like magical amnesia isn’t going to change that. I love you too.”

Steve grins. “I really did miss you, pretty.” Clint turns pink - and oh, how Steve missed seeing that blush.

“I missed you too,” Clint says, curling into Steve’s chest. “Promise me, if you ever get amnesia again, you’ll give it to me too.”

“I don’t know how I would manage that,” Steve laughs. Clint smacks him on the chest. “Alright, alright, I promise.”

“Good,” Clint mutters, “I’m not losing you again.” Steve hugs him close.

They cuddle in silence for a while, and then JARVIS interrupts. “Agent Barton, Captain Rogers.”

“What is it, J?” Clint says, turning his head.

“Sir would like to know if Captain Rogers is finished with his ‘Big Gay Awakening’, and would ask him to head up to the medical suite to let the doctors run some tests.” JARVIS sounds apologetic for interrupting, but Steve can’t help laughing.

“Big Gay Awakening, huh?” Clint grins at him, eyes sparkling. “What d’you think, Steve? You awake and gay yet?”

Steve snorts. “Let me check.” He pulls Clint close and kisses him firmly, enjoying the feel of his lover’s mouth against his. He pulls away and Clint is flushed and staring. “Yep. Awake and gay and ready to roll."

Clint grins at him as he rolls off the bed. “Love you, Steve.”

Steve grabs Clint’s hand as they head up to medical, smiling. “Love you too, pretty.”


End file.
